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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27460573">Batter my Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnricoDandolo/pseuds/EnricoDandolo'>EnricoDandolo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Frozen (Disney Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, F/F, Manhattan Project, Period-Typical Homophobia, Romance, Sibling Incest, lots of John Adams and Richard Wagner references</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:35:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,288</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27460573</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnricoDandolo/pseuds/EnricoDandolo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They say it is the greatest accomplishment in the history of man (she notes the phrasing). She knows Anna has her doubts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anna/Elsa (Disney)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Batter my Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Batter my heart, three-person’d God, for you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>as yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend</em>
</p><p>
  <em>that I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend</em>
</p><p>
  <em>your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I, like an usurp’d town, to another due,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>labour to admit you, but oh, to no end;</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>but is captiv’d, and proves weak or untrue.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yet dearly I love you, and would be lov’d fain,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>but am betrothed unto your enemy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Divorce me, untie or break that knot again,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>take me to you, imprison me, for I,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>except you enthrall me, never shall be free</em>
</p><p>
  <em>nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Staccato triplets hammering the piano strings. They say it is the greatest discovery of the age, of all ages. The desert air is thick and hazy with cigarette smoke, each a flower blooming in the dark. Ta-ta-tap, ta-ta-tap, ta-ta-tap. Her fingers stagger along the keys drunk and cold like strangers in the cones of streetlights.</p><p>She starts to hum. They say it is the greatest accomplishment in the history of man (she notes the phrasing). They will divide the indivisible, they say, but their pride is hollow. Someone taps out his cigarette, only to light another moments later. Fermi is taking bets. Nervous laughter all around.</p><p>Someone places a drink on the piano before her, a soft, warm hand on her shoulder. She looks up, her finger slips. Ta-ta-----------------TAP. A gentle smile to hide her fear. She doesn’t have to be here if she doesn’t want to. Knows how uncomfortable she is in crowds. I’m fine don’t worry about me no more emotion than if I had lost my visiting card us ruthless brutal people must band together for the future of the country, for the future—she doesn’t say any of that, smiles back. You should head home can still catch the final truck back to base I’m not leaving you alone sister.</p><p>Her hand squeezes hers on her shoulder, a quiet grateful moment. How are you feeling what do you mean I mean all this—all this, a wave of the hand sweeps through the room. Besuited bespectacled befuddled scientists uniformed uninformed uninitiated generals. Why are they here again? Goddammit, Oppenheimer, never shoulda gotten her that invitation (you deserve to be here this is your work as much as ours). I’m fine she says looking forward to the shot and she can see it’s the wrong answer God she wants to kiss her</p><p>Ta-ta-tap, ta-ta-tap, you’re nervous aren’t you what about, the shot or what comes after the shot of course what if it’s a dud it won’t be a dud you were so sure yesterday but what about after She doesn’t want to think about after.</p><p>“It’s time” one of the generals says ta-ta-<em>tap</em>. The men begin to file out. She gets to her feet, smooths out her blouse and skirt, downs the shot. Her sister raises an eyebrow, gives her <em>that </em>look. What, she says, we can still leave, she says. Back to our house in the desert you’ve been sleeping at the lab for so long the gaillardia are in bloom you know. She would love nothing more than to do that to curl up on the sofa and watch the flowers bloom in the desert soil but she knows she can’t. “Av Arendelle, you coming?” She looks up feeling guilty, squeezes her sister’s hand, “come on”.</p><p>The trucks are cramped, the sisters almost sitting in each other’s lap by the time the others have squeezed in. Anna is hot against her body, she can feel her shallow breaths and beating heart and wrestles free a hand to squeeze her knee. It’ll be alright she says silently this is all gonna be over soon it’ll never be over no matter how this goes best case we’ll all fry, fry, fry and <em>life </em>will be over but at least we’ll fry together right? At that Anna has to smile and takes her hand, fingers laced together, and if they were alone her head would be on her shoulder but they are not and good God Richard has his drums with him <em>why</em></p><p>Du-du-dum du-du-DA-dum DA-DA-du-du-du-DA-dum the trucks ride across the dirt roads into the desert her hand searing her cold hand and she squeezes more tightly as if willing her skin to char with her heat. “We’re here, mind the rattlesnakes.”</p><p>It’s the middle of the night, and it is cold outside but the air inside the bunker is stifling and so they sit in the sand or on camping chairs, cigarettes lighting up the starless night. Every now and then, light drizzle descends on them, and Anna leans back in the dirt with her mouth open as if to catch the rainfall, the way they’d used to try and swallow snowflakes back in Norway.</p><p>They talk quietly in their native tongue, sitting by each other’s side, as the men fret and argue around them. Do you remember that concert we went to in March ’39, back in Trondheim, the way I startled and seized your hand you wouldn’t let go all evening, poor Kristoff was jealous of course I remember. Remember that night in Narvik nothing to our name but our clothes and a small suitcase but we were together and I was so relieved when we got on the ship even though we could already hear the sound of the German guns I couldn’t stop kissing you the soldiers laughed and jeered but we didn’t care, remember London where we made love for the first time and I was so afraid remember the Atlantic remember Harvard remember remember I remember you, only you, the little house in Oslo we looked at before the war with the garden and the door and the library a stone’s throw away, and always you behind the numbers and the maths and the physics. Elsa rests her head on her sister’s shoulder and wants to kiss her way up and down her neck when Teller moves past them handing out sunscreen and welder’s goggles and she recoils. It is 4:30, what is taking them so long?</p><p>Anna has fallen asleep by her side and she sits silently, watching the horizon. She runs her fingers through her hair and before she knows it she’s retracing her calculations on her sister’s scalp like a chalkboard, repeating gently what she has written ruthlessly a thousand times. She looks around, sees Szilard off to the side looking through his binoculars, sees Oppenheimer arguing with Groves in front of the bunker. How much? How many? She looks down at her sister and her throat constricts as she recalls all the arguments they’ve had.</p><p>“How much, av Arendelle?” She does not need to look up to know it’s Teller passing the hat around, wearing rubber gloves and sunglasses under his goggles and she’s put in mind of his outrageous calculations. Without really looking she produces a five dollar note. “How much?” She thinks back to her calculations, looks down at Anna’s braids (now dishevelled and knotty, oops). “Twenty,” she says, and Teller laughs. “I’m liking that optimism. I’m betting forty-five myself, everyone thinks I’m out of my mind. Hey, Wilson!”</p><p>She likes Teller, Elsa thinks. Their work on the Super has taken them far beyond the limits of the project and their military minders’ specifications, but it’s liberating to work with the kind of extraordinary men—and women—he’s assembled for his team, people who understand the things she wants to talk about and don’t care what she’s got between her legs. She’s still not sure if she likes Oppenheimer, but she respects his drive and his talent for organisation. She respects the way he’s kept them out of politics’ way. <em>Us ruthless, brutal people must stick together,</em> he had told her one day after she’d voiced her concerns about Szilard’s petition. <em>The nation’s fate should be left in the hands of the best men in Washington … it is for them to decide, not us.</em></p><p>She loosens Anna’s braids, brushing her hair with her fingers to get rid of the knots. It is 5:10 and Allison’s voice crackles through the loudspeakers, beginning the countdown now that the weather has cleared. Ruthless, brutal people. Anna’s hair is soft and silky, her body hot and smooth against hers. She remembers the way they’d danced around one another for years at home, every word and every gesture a potential pitfall, every touch dangerous enough to ignite the atmosphere. She leans in to nuzzle her head against her sister’s, breathes in the sweet fragrance of her hair and silently hums into her, <em>langsam und schmachtend, </em>A to F to E to <em>hnngh </em>and no resolution. Remember that concert, that opera, that lecture, that movie, that club, that bar, remember—no, she does not remember, she remembers <em>her</em>.</p><p>She remembers the G-Men knocking on the door of her office at Harvard, all smiles and neatly pressed black suits and salacious photographs, and she remembers the fear that washed over her, the ice that gripped her heart. They had been so careful … The G-Men were polite, friendly, even, as they went through the photographs one by one, as though taking delight in killing her slowly. If she was aware that both she and her sister could be facing up to forty years in prison under Massachusetts law, followed by deportation. They say America is the land of the free and the home of the brave. Then, digging her nails into the palms of her fists deep enough to draw blood, she knew it was a lie, and that all her bravery and all her freedom would not save her.</p><p>But perhaps, the G-Men said as one of them offered her a silk handkerchief to wipe her tears, as she wanted nothing more than to kill them all, her crimes could be forgiven if she agreed to put her expertise towards the good of the country …? Besides, one of them had said on the way out, a genial smile on his clean-shaven face, she was a pretty young lady, and smart as a whip. She should just find a nice young feller and there’d be no need for her perversions, there were pills and therapies—she wanted nothing more than to throw a knife at him, but she had smiled, thin-lipped, blood seeping through her fists, and said she’d consider it.</p><p>Anna wakes up when the ten-minute-warning siren screams, and only then Elsa notices how tightly she is holding her, as if at any moment the G-Men will come back to take her away. She looks up at her from those big blue eyes that always put her in mind of mountain lakes, designed by their Creator for her to drown in … Is she okay of course she is sorry was she holding her too tight no never never tight enough</p><p>I’m afraid</p><p>There is nothing to be afraid of (me too)</p><p>Liar</p><p>She wants to kiss her, places a loose strand of hair behind her ear. C’mon, time to get our goggles on. The countdown is down to three minutes, four minutes until dawn. The siren blares like a trumpet, an aria of lament. Cigarette smoke fills the early morning air as they take their places. She double and triple-checks her sister’s goggles like she’s a child, then squeezes her hand.</p><p>“Zero minus two minutes. The two-minute warning rocket has sputtered out prematurely.”</p><p>“That was an ominous sign …”</p><p>Anna takes her hand, like that night in Trondheim. What had they listened to, she tries to recall as she caresses the back of her hand with her thumb? Ah yes, <em>mild und leise … </em>They share a look, a smile. Even now, in a foreign land in a foreign tongue and at the precipice of a foreign age, to look at Anna, to count her freckles, to drown herself in those eyes feels like home. She needs her to know that despite her fears and her objection, she does not regret a thing. Whatever happens, says her sister, quiet and in Norwegian, whatever may come of this, whatever may be. I am yours.</p><p>She wants to kiss her as dawn blooms in the clouds but settles for brushing her fingers across her cheek. I am yours, she repeats, in this age and the next. I love you so much I want to die. I want time so much time all the time in the world</p><p>T-10 seconds (it is 5:29 and dawn’s first rosy finger touches their lips)</p><p>I love you</p><p>T-9 T-8 seconds</p><p>I love you too</p><p>T-7 T-6</p><p>“God these affairs are hard on the heart”</p><p>T-5</p><p>We will never be free together</p><p>T-4 I know</p><p>T-3 T-2 but we’ll be together T-1 rosy fingers of dawn calls the trumpet ta-ta-tum always together therearenomoresecondsnomoreminutestimehasdisappeareditiseternitythatreignsnow</p><p>We are the atom undivided indivisible that is what I fear</p><p>The sky bright and white she can’t see can’t see anything is she blind white as snow white as home Anna’s hand in hers every bone visible through her skin so bright so beautiful the mortality to know that eternity is not forever the lightmajesticglorioustranscendantawfulhelpmeisthistheendamIdead—</p><p>She looks at Anna skull stark white against the dark and is afraid</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>ECCE HOMO DEUS</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>At the sight of this, your Shape stupendous</em>
</p><p>
  <em>full of mouth and eyes, feet, thighs and bellies,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>terrible with fangs, O master,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>all the worlds are fear-struck, even just as I am.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When I see you, Vishnu, omnipresent,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>shouldering the sky, in hues of rainbow,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>with your mouth agape and flame-eyes staring—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>all my peace is gone, my heart is troubled.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yeah so this is what happens when you listen to "Batter my Heart" from John Adams' "Doctor Atomic" too much while reading angsty Elsanna fanfics https://youtu.be/AlUHKHLk_VU</p></blockquote></div></div>
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